


Starry Starry Knight

by theauthorish



Series: Constellation Boys [5]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 03:41:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15810603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theauthorish/pseuds/theauthorish
Summary: Oikawa knew tonight's meteor shower would be special, but he wasn't expecting an alien? This was so much better than he could have hoped for.





	Starry Starry Knight

**Author's Note:**

> Note:
> 
> Andddd that's the last of the oneshots!!! Next up is the first chapter, and it might be a while before I get that done, but I'm excited and hope you all are too! I don’t really know why this one turned out so much longer than the others, but I hope you enjoy it! As always, thanks for reading!

Tooru hummed (the Star Wars theme song of course) softly as he gave the camera a last check, just to be sure it was perfectly arranged. Satisfied, he settled down to lie back on the grass, unmindful of the dew soaking into his jeans and shirt-- Yakkun would likely have a fit about it, but Tooru knew he’d be fine. His immune system was stronger than a bit of damp.

 

Probably.

 

Either way, he wanted to be as comfortable as possible so he could properly appreciate the meteor shower tonight; they were rare enough as it was, and considering that tonight's was special-- well. Here he was, risking a bit of a cold.

 

When the shower began, Tooru couldn't help the delighted gasp he let out. No matter how many showers he’d watched, online or in person, he never got tired of the sight. It was beautiful, and if Tooru had time in his life for anything aside from volleyball and university, he might have created something in honor of the sight. Maybe a painting. He could be pretty artistic when he tried.

 

It was normal enough, at first. Pretty, but just like any other meteor shower. Normal. Scientifically predictable. Tooru was almost disappointed. He’d sent out all the others (bribed them, mostly) to record the others, even though the only thing special about them was their matched timing? A bit of a let down, really…

 

And then suddenly it wasn't. The shooting stars increased in number, new ones winking into existence every second as others fizzled out, and Tooru couldn't help but stare in awe as the area around him grew more visible, lit up somehow by the shower.

 

This was definitely a new development. Were the others seeing something like this too? Meteor showers weren't supposed to be this brilliant, much less getting even-- Oikawa sucked in another breath as something appeared to be hurtling down to earth… right towards where he was.

 

He felt a shiver shoot down his spine, fixated on the approaching meteorite with amazement, and maybe a tinge of fear. Maybe he should get out of the way.

 

… Yeah, make that definitely.

 

Oikawa made a dash for the treeline of the surrounding woods; it looked a decent distance enough away, and anyhow, just in case any creepy tentacled aliens crawled out-- he could hide behind a tree while he took photographic evidence. Not his best plan, really, but he’d always thought he would be the one to go looking for aliens, not the other way around.

 

Of course, it was much more likely that this was just a regular old meteorite. That would be a little disappointing, but it would still be cool! Definitely the opportunity of a lifetime. It was relatively rare for anything to survive the atmosphere, after all. He could absolutely claim it for scientific study-- maybe he could even center his thesis around it? Although, meteorites weren't all that new, it could be nothing more than an interesting piece for museums… Then again, there could also be something entirely unprecedented in this one. After all, nothing of tonight's shower had been normal yet, other than its start.

 

Just as Oikawa ducked behind the sturdy trunk of a cherry tree, the meteorite hit the ground, kicking up all sorts of dirt and debris-- Oikawa really hoped his camera wasn't among that debris-- in its wake.

 

Beneath him, the ground trembled ever so slightly, a testament to the force of the impact. Oikawa felt his bad knee twinge a little, too, and he winced, praying that it wasn't about to act up now, not when there was an _actual_ _thing from space_ right there for him to investigate before anyone else could.

 

When his knee didn't give out or start throbbing, Oikawa released a breath he didn't even realize he’d held, slowly picking his way across the small plain he’d chosen to watch the shower from. As he approached, he realized that the thing lying there wasn't a thing at all. It was a person.

 

But people didn't come falling through the atmosphere without some kind of protective vessel and _not_ burn up. Re-entry could kill a flimsy old human easily, and had absolutely done so before. (Oikawa would know, he'd studied the hell out of anything to do with space, especially during his brief stay in the hospital for his knee.) Which meant, A: he had not really fallen from the sky-- this, Oikawa knew he could rule out. He had witnessed the whole thing, and he knew without a doubt that he had not been hallucinating. Or, B: this was an alien!!! Although, why an alien wouldn't use some sort of ship or more discreet way of visiting Earth, Oikawa didn't really get.

 

More importantly though-- a real life alien! He had been _right_ . They existed! They were out there! This was amazing, there was so much he wanted to learn about this alien, especially because it looked so _human_ , actually, were there other Earth-like planets out there, with a race just like humans?

 

Would that make it a he? Because it certainly looked like a man. He looked powerful-- his body was thick with muscle, especially his arms, and Oikawa could even pick out a few pale lines of scarring crisscrossing his tanned skin. Those likely indicated some affinity or at least experience in battle, right? There were too many to be accidents, and there were no other signs to point to abuse of any sort… he supposed those might be hidden, but it seemed unlikely with so little covered by that flimsy little skirt-- really, what did the aliens think of Earth? Why send him in naked? Was this guy being exiled or something?

 

Hm… if he was, Oikawa would need to be careful about approaching him. As it was, he’d stood, but wasn't moving yet, cradling his head and grunting something about pain (he spoke Japanese too??? Wow, this was insane.) That gave Oikawa a bit of time to keep observing, to figure out how to make contact.

 

Make contact-- Oikawa couldn't help but feel a little giddy at that. It really felt like one of his sci-fi movies, and maybe it was childish of him to be so excited, but he couldn't really help it, now, could he?

 

He’d have to be careful, avoid provoking him-- Oikawa was strong, sure; volleyball had made him lean and muscled, gave him an endurance and stamina beyond that of an average college student. In addition, he had a naturally calculating mind, quick to pinpoint weaknesses even as he was in the midst of a match or conversation. But still, he doubted he’d be able to overpower the alien-- even with what looked like a slight height advantage, Oikawa wasn't a fighter, and this guy clearly was. Not to mention he was still a little sore from all his excess practice sessions the past week (luckily, Yakkun didn't seem to have noticed his telltale wincing once in a while).

 

Oikawa had just plastered on his trademark charming smile when the alien’s head swiveled, eyes locking on him. “Who are you?” he grunted.

 

Well! He hadn't been expecting that, but he didn't falter. “My name is Oikawa Tooru. And you're an alien who speaks Japanese. Interesting.”

 

“I-- what? Alien? What the fuck are you talking about?” The alien looked honestly perplexed, brow deeply furrowed, lips curled downwards in a frown. “And I don't need your name, what do you do? Why are you here?”

 

He was aggressive, Oikawa noted. But not reckless; he seemed to be analyzing Oikawa just as much as the reverse was true, though the setter doubted the alien would be as ruthless or as thorough as he was. He didn't move or charge or anything, so that was good. Still smiling, he replied, “I’m a student. University-- if you know what that is. I’m here to watch the meteor shower… or I was. Then you showed up in the middle of it. And what about you?”

 

“What about me?”

 

Oikawa quirked up an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. “Who are you? What are you doing here on Earth?”

 

“‘On earth’-- where do you think I'm from anyway? Don't I look like a human to you?” The alien was giving him a _look._ The withering sort of glance that meant Oikawa had said something stupid-- which he hadn't!

 

“Appearances can be deceiving!” Oikawa protested, thoroughly offended.

 

“So what? You think I’m something else pretending to be a person? A gorgon or some shit? Those things can't look human, no matter how much they want to--”

 

Gorgon? What was he talking about? That sounded familiar though… “Greek mythology?” He cut in, incredulous. “Or was it Roman… Why are you talking like that stuff is real? Why is that the first thing you think of? Besides, I already told you what I thought you were. An alien.”

 

Said alien opened his mouth to speak, but Oikawa kept going. “You came from _space_ . As a _meteorite_ . And _didn't burn_ up on contact with our atmosphere! Which means you _must_ be an alien!” By the end of his speech, Oikawa looked rather vindicated. As if he'd won something. Maybe the argument, if that's what they were having now.

 

The alien blinked at Oikawa for a moment. “I don't understand half of what you said. But that probably means it's wrong.”

 

“What kind of logic is that?!” Oikawa flung his hands up into the air, exasperated already. “If someone tells you something you don't understand, that means it's nonsense? How narrow-minded of you--” Oikawa broke off his sentence, realizing that somehow, the alien had completely avoided giving him anything resembling a name. “What do I call you anyway? Do you have a name, or do I need to call you Alien-chan in my head the whole time?”

 

“ _Alien-chan_ ? _That's_ what you’ve been using to think about me?” He looked downright disgusted by the nickname, and Oikawa had to suppress a snicker. So easily worked up…

 

“Well, no,” he admitted. “Just thought of it now, really. Why?” He grinned teasingly. “Like it?”

 

“Fuck no.” A beat of silence. “Iwaizumi Hajime.”

 

“What?”

 

“My name,” grumbled the alien-- er, Iwaizumi. “It’s Iwaizumi Hajime. Call me that instead of--” his brow wrinkled in distaste-- “Alien-chan.” Under his breath, he added, “I don't even know what ‘alien’ means.”

 

Oikawa hemmed and hawed, pretending he wasn't satisfied with that-- even though he was, obviously, because he’d gotten the alien’s name! “Iwaizumi is such a mouthful. Can't I call you… I know! Iwa-chan!”

 

For a second, Oikawa could have sworn he saw a vein pulsing at Iwaizumi’s temple. _Very_ easily worked up, indeed. “No,” he said, with a grave finality Oikawa knew he would ignore.

 

“Iwa-chan it is!” Oikawa declared, smirking. “So, _Iwa-chan_ , tell me where you came from! What planet? What's it like there?”

 

“Planet? I didn't come from any planet. I came from Mount Olympus-- dropped off the top like some puppet with its strings cut, too.” Iwaizumi scratched idly at the back of his neck. Oikawa instinctively honed in on it, but after a second, he realized the gesture wasn't one of nerves (therefore indicating a weakness he could file away if needed), but one of boredom.

 

Shame, he could have used an advantage against this alien-- although, Iwaizumi was strangely forthcoming with information, and information was a sort of power too, wasn't it? It was the same power that kept him up late before games, watching his opponent's matches over and over until his eyes burned. The same power that drove him to do hours of research on any and all players he’d face across the net. He could work with this.

 

“Gods? Why do you keep bringing up this Roman myth stuff?”

 

“Greek, not Roman,” Iwaizumi corrected. “And what do you mean _myth_? They're real-- does no one believe in them anymore?”

 

Oikawa shook his head. “Here in Japan? Not really. They used to, I think, but… the religion faded out a long while ago. Now only a few families still pray to them.” What did that have to do with anything?

 

For a moment, Iwaizumi’s expression closed off, growing distant. Almost to himself, he muttered, “So I’ve been gone that long… Azami--”

 

Oikawa didn't know who Azami was, or what might have made Iwaizumi look so defeated, but he felt a pang of sympathy for this man. He looked, suddenly, so world-weary despite just having gotten here, so tired and lonely and… “Hey,” Oikawa said, softly. “What did you mean gone?” He hoped that if nothing else, the conversation would distract him; When Oikawa was sad or troubled, distraction was what he searched for. He went out to dance or mingle, he spent hours at the gym practicing his serves and sets. He put on old volleyball games he’d taped or binge-watched the Netflix sci-fi category. And if not distraction, maybe Iwaizumi could get it off his chest. Maybe.

 

For a long moment, Iwaizumi stared at him, assessing, perhaps, his reasons for wanting to know. Oikawa didn't blame him. He knew what he was like, sometimes, and though he largely covered up his ruthlessness with charm, Iwaizumi didn't seem so easily fooled.

 

Eventually: “I’m human, you know. Not this… ‘alien’ crap you keep calling me. I lived somewhere around here a…” He paused, seemingly swallowing a lump in his throat, “a long time ago. But the gods-- Zeus and Athena, really-- they punished me. For defying them.” He sighed. “I wouldn't change what I did though.”

 

Oikawa understood by his body language and the finality of his tone that that was all Iwaizumi was willing to share. While a part of him wanted to push for more, to probe and prod until he got the full story, he knew that it would be futile. Besides, it would be cruel, wouldn't it, to force him to bare his pain to a man he’d just met. Especially one like Oikawa, so quick to pinpoint others’ soft spots and remember them for later.

 

“So the gods are real, then?” He asked, after a beat.

 

“What did I just say, idiot,” Iwaizumi responded, though his shoulders slumped in relief that Oikawa had let the subject go.

 

“Well no need to be rude and insult me!” Oikawa squawked. “I haven't even met anyone who still worships them, let alone claims they actually interacted with them!” He huffed, pouting childishly.

 

Iwaizumi only rolled his eyes. “Well, now you have. So now what?”

 

“Hm… You need somewhere to stay, don't you?” Oikawa asked, although he was fairly certain of the answer.

 

“Obviously. Are you offering?”

 

Oikawa grinned. “I think so, yes.”

 

/////

 

**5 Missed Calls From: Mama Yakkun ♡♡**

**1 Unheard Message From: Mama Yakkun ♡♡**

**2 Missed Calls From: Sugamama ☆**

**13 Unread Texts From: Mama Yakkun ♡♡**

**5 Unread Texts From: Sugamama ☆**

**1 Unread Text From: ◇ Bokuchan ◇**

 

“Uh… Iwa-chan--”

 

“Don't call me that!”

 

“ _Iwa-chan._ I think we might have company. Angry company.”

 

“ _What_?”

 

“I didn't answer my friend's calls! I forgot to check my phone, okay? Now they're worried, and uh… did you know there were other people like you?”

 

“People like me?”

 

“Constellation people! Each of my friends met one too. You’re not alone!”

 

“Huh.”

 

“Shouldn't you be happier?”

 

“Shouldn't you? Your friends are coming, why do you look like you're going to piss yourself?”

 

“You don't understand! An angry Yakkun is scary!”

  



End file.
